


You Can Only Fall

by Nyxierose



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Gen, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 03:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1729808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxierose/pseuds/Nyxierose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which nothing says "acceptable reason to start a relationship" quite like an accidental pregnancy. Modern AU, Bellarke-centric but will probably feature everyone in one way or another at some point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted from my tumblr (ourladyofconcealedweaponry). Second-person // Clarke's POV. Title from "No Strings" by Chloe Howl (which also inspired the general idea of this fic).

You are not the sort of girl this happens to, but as you stare down at the two positive pregnancy tests in your shaking hands, you realize that it has. How, you’re not sure, you haven’t slept with anyone in six m-… no, six  _weeks_ , which is about the right timing for the situation you’re in right now. Dammit.

You don’t even remember that night all too well, which is probably how  _this_  happened. You vaguely remember the other person involved, tall dark and unfairly hot, a certain presence about him that was really attractive once you were two drinks into the night… and you’ve got his name and phone number on a sticky note that has miraculously stayed on your wall since the morning after. That’s enough remembrance, you figure. You know there aren’t any other possibilities, so it’s time to have the most awkward conversation of your life.

You can barely type the right numbers, but somehow you manage and your fingers grip the phone tightly as you hope against hope that he won’t answer. But clearly, something out there hates you, because he picks up on the second ring. “Hello?”

"Hi. Is this Bellamy Blake?"

"Who’s asking?" You can almost picture him smirking, enjoying himself. Well, at least one person is!

"Um… my name is Clarke Griffin, we hooked up a couple of weeks ago, and…"

"Petite blonde, pretty eyes, yes?" So he remembers you, at least. Either that or he’s got a type, but it’s irrelevant at the moment.

"Yeah. Well… um… I’m pregnant. And you are the only person I’ve had sex with in the last six months, so…"

"Shit."

"That’s not the reaction I was expecting."

"Yeah, because that’s not the kind of thing you tell someone over the damn phone. If we’re gonna talk about this, face-to-face would work better."

"Where and when? I’ve got nothing but time." And boy is that an understatement. It’s the middle of summer and you’re taking some time for yourself before med school in the fall, which is now definitely being put on hold, and…

"Would it be ridiculously forward to suggest my apartment?"

"No. Better that way. No one will see me."

"Shit, you’re not…  _significant_  or anything, are you?”

"Not really, not like you’re thinking, but my mom knows a lot of people and she’s going to freak out enough as it is."

"And you’re not sixteen either? God, you’d better not be sixteen, I am not going to jail for this…"

"I’m nearly twenty-two, so no."

You hear him let go of breath you doubt he knew he was holding. “Okay, good. Cool if I text you the address? I’m not really doing anything today, so… come over when you can.”

"I’ll be there as soon as I can steady my heartbeat enough to safely drive."

"Great. See you then, Clarke."

As soon as the line is quiet, you throw your phone across the room. You’re not normally this sort of girl, but right now… fuck your  _life_.

It takes you a few minutes to calm down, and a few more to make sure you’re dressed sensibly - jeans and a modest top, you want to make a few things  _very clear_  - but by then you have the address and off you go. It’s in a more questionable neighborhood than you’ve grown up in, but then again you can’t exactly think of anywhere  _less_  questionable and it’s not exactly a bad place either. Just… not somewhere you’ve spent a lot of time in. You can work with that.

Half an hour later, you are standing outside the door of an apartment on the second floor of a mundane building and you are  _panicking_. You knock once, twice, hoping this will be a very easy conversation to have, hoping… oh hell, there’s no way this will end prettily…

When the door opens, you come face-to-face with a skinny brunette perhaps a year or two younger than you. “Oh my god,” she mutters, shaking her head so her long hair flies out in interesting directions. “When my brother said you were pretty, I didn’t expect him to be right!”

"Um… who are you?"

"Frick, manners," the girl laughs. "Octavia Blake, Bell’s younger sister. He had to run out and get something, but he’ll be back sooner or later… ‘least, he better be, it’s not like I had plans for this afternoon but keeping an eye on you isn’t exactly what I had in mind…"

"Nice to meet you," you reply, sticking out your hand and trying not to flinch as her fingernails dig into your wrist as she shakes it. "I’m Clarke."

"I know  _that_ , silly. Y’know, he talked about you the morning after, said you were absolutely the most glorious person he’d ever been anywhere near. He was probably hungover then, but he still  _liked_  you.”

"That’s… good, I guess?"

"Try miraculous. If he had to go and knock some chick up, I’m happy it’s you and not someone closer to his usual type."

"Which is?"

"Absolutely none of your business," a deeper voice interjects. You whirl around and see the source of your problems, an amused smile on his face and a shopping bag on his arm, and you definitely forgot how damn  _pretty_  he is because that is now almost all you can see. “I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but under the circumstances…”

"At least you’re being decent about it," you point out.

"Trying to be, at least." He looks away from you for a moment to offer his sister a death glare. "Tae, you could’ve at least let her inside?"

"She’s only been here a few minutes," Octavia mutters.

"I don’t care. Get out of her way." Then back to you, more sympathetic now. "I’m sorry that my sister was apparently raised by wolves. Make yourself at home."

"I was mostly raised by  _you_ , asshole,” she hisses, but she caves in nonetheless.

The apartment isn’t as large as you expected, you note, but it’s furnished well enough and looks like a proper home for these people. There’s a questionable painting of what you’re pretty sure is supposed to be a cat on one of the walls, a kitchen area that takes up nearly half the main living space, and a battered couch at the far end that you sit down on because you don’t mean to be in anyone’s way. You’re a natural outsider, but this… this is ridiculous.

"So… you’re pregnant," Bellamy says once the door is shut and his sister has shut herself into one of the rooms off the main one. "What are you planning to do with it?"

"I’m not entirely sure. Do you have feelings on that?"

"None that matter. I mean, I like kids and I’d be cool with helping you raise it if that’s what you want, but… you’re the one who has to suffer through pregnancy. What I think is irrelevant."

You motion for him to join you on the couch - he’s still standing right now, and for some reason you genuinely want to be close to him. “You’re a better person than I expected you’d be.”

"I try. But… yeah. Do what you will and I’ll be here if you need me regardless of what that choice ends up being."

"I’m leaning towards keeping it. Is that… okay with you?"

He sits down next to you, cautiously wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and you are sure in that moment that you are completely okay with forming a makeshift family with this man. “‘Course it’s okay, Clarke. And I wanna be here for you. My dad ditched us right after Octavia was born, and…”

"I’m so sorry."

"Don’t be. I was four and don’t remember him, but according to my mother, it wasn’t a great loss. Point being… I want to be better than that."

Impulsively, you turn your head just slightly and kiss his cheek. “I think you already are.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clarke is in a desperate situation, Bellamy is surprisingly non-terrible at dealing with crying women, and Raven and Octavia might be in love (maybe).

Five days and one awkward doctor visit later, you decide to tell your mother. She’s the next logical person on the list of people who need to know that you’re knocked up and planning to keep the results of that little blunder, and you figure she’ll be… maybe not  _thrilled_ , but at least accepting of the fact that you’ve thought this decision through and are taking full responsibility for the lapse in judgment that got you into this mess. Boy are you wrong. You didn’t know she was capable of lashing out like that, and while you’re pretty sure it’s a panic reaction and she’ll calm down in a couple of days (not hours, you don’t have that much hope), the fact still remains that half an hour after the words “Mom, I’m pregnant” slip out of your mouth, you are officially on your own and banned from her house until further notice. So much for familial support…

Your options, at this point, are limited. You don’t really have any friends, and the one person who genuinely falls into that category is too busy with his own stuff - preparing for law school and trying to find the right way to propose to his girlfriend - to accept you crashing on his couch for an indefinite amount of time. (You consider calling Wells anyways, because he’s put up with more of your shit than anyone else since you two were practically fetal, but you just can’t do that to him, best friend or not.) So really, there’s only one logical person you can beg for help, and as much as you don’t want to… it’s not like he’s gonna say no, right?

This time, the apartment building is a little easier to find, and the two suitcases of all your important possessions are easy to lug up the flight of stairs. You probably should’ve texted, you realize, but you’re not entirely sure who’s going to be around. More likely than not, you’ll have to tangle with the sister first, and from what you’ve seen, communication isn’t something those two do well. By that logic, turning up unannounced and explaining yourself as you have to is a completely rational way of handling the situation.

Your hand is shaking as you knock on the door, the rest of you starting to follow, and you’re not even sure where to begin when…

"Clarke?" Oh good, at least you’re dealing with the person more likely to be sympathetic. There’s a certain worry in Bellamy’s deep brown eyes, and you swear you try not to stare but you’re pretty sure that’s the only thing keeping you upright and you do not care. "What the hell happened?"

"I told my mom and she kicked me out," you reply. Might as well get straight to the point. "I need somewhere to stay for… a couple of days, at least, maybe longer depending on how long it takes her to calm down, and… I know this is pathetic, but you’re all I’ve got." And now you want to cry. Fantastic.

"It’s okay," he shrugs, stepping back and letting you in. "Not ideal, but… we’re gonna have to play nice with each other if this kid’s gonna turn out okay, and I’ve definitely shared space with worse."

"Shut up, you like having me around."

"I don’t know you well enough to say that for sure, but… I think I might." He glances around, as if looking for something invisible. "You can stay in my room, okay?"

"No, I’m fine with couches, I’m…"

"You’re what, roughly two months pregnant? You are not sleeping on that torture device."

You roll your eyes. “I am not imposing on you.”

"Didn’t say I thought you were, princess. I’ll take your stuff there, if you don’t mind."

Ah, dammit, you’re  _going_  to cry. “Thank you,” you whisper, trying to hold off sobs for as long as possible. “Thank you for…”

"Hey." He’s closer to you now, wrapping his arms around you, and his heartbeat is steady and you decide in that moment that you are totally okay with your child having this man as a father. "Hey. It’s okay. I’ve got you. Nothing else is gonna hurt you."

You’re not sure how long you linger there - long enough that you work through the worst of your tears, long enough that you notice how steady his heartbeat is, long enough for his lips to gently touch your forehead - but you know damn well that you want to stay longer. However, the universe has other plans.

"What the actual fuck?" A higher, feminine, and very annoyed voice - the sister, Octavia you’re pretty sure her name is, has emerged from wherever she was when everything else went down. "So are you two an actual thing now?"

"Go back to whatever trouble you and Raven were getting into," Bellamy mutters, moving his head so it’s not resting on yours anymore but otherwise making no move to let go of you.

"I come back here for half a minute to see if we have any eggs and I find you entwined with your baby mama. How exactly am I supposed to react?"

"She’s staying with us for a while, Octavia. Stuff… happened, okay?"

"I’ll stay out of your way," you add, voice still weak but you’re trying to regain something akin to composure sooner rather than later. "I promise."

"I’m not mad at  _you_ ,” Octavia laughs. “Weird as you are, you’re at least a functional human being, whereas my asshole brother here…”

"Is actually wonderful," you interject before a fight can break out. "Get over it."

"Okay, I’m gonna need some sort of explanation for this scene," a new voice joins in. You turn your head slightly and see a skinny brunette standing in the doorway and looking far too amused. "Preferably tarting with who the little blonde is."

"My name’s Clarke," you reply, taking a step back so you can look at the other girl properly. Presumably this is the ‘Raven’ person Bellamy mentioned a few moments ago, and you have to admit that she gives quite the impression. "And, um… I’m…"

"She’s pregnant with my kid," Bellamy finishes. When you give him what you think is a good death glare, he only smiles. "What, figured I might as well get that out there. Raven lives next door, and she and Octavia are…"

"Friends," Octavia says a little too quickly. "Very good friends. Now,  _I_  am returning to our project, so you two lovebirds can go back to whatever the hell you were doing.”

"Nice to meet you, Clarke," Raven adds as she turns and exits as quickly as she entered. "See you around."

It takes a few moments for you to process what just happened around you, to turn and face your ally again with a confused expression because once again you are not sure where to begin. “So that was…”

"Actually one of the quieter neighbors, surprisingly. Raven’s cool. Has a ridiculous crush on Octavia and thinks she’s more subtle than she actually is about it, but other than that small character flaw…"

"So if that’s quiet, then what’s less quiet?"

"The other neighbors," Bellamy laughs. "Jasper and Monty. They’re both majoring in sciencey things at the university, Jasper likes to blow stuff up on the fire escape, and Monty… is surprisingly normal given what he lives with, but not  _completely_  normal. He stays out of our hair, though.”

"And no one in this building has any concept of personal space?"

"Nah, most people do, just not our pack. You’ll get used to it."

"And if I don’t?"

"We’ll deal with that when we have to, okay?"

You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, but you nod your head anyways. You’re already in an interesting situation; what else could possibly go wrong?!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which being unable to sleep leads to cuddling leads to… Octavia being unamused.

Before all of this happened - until a week ago or thereabouts - you had a perfectly sensible sleeping schedule. Before all of this happened, all you needed to do was lie back and close your eyes and that would be enough. But right now, at roughly one in the morning on a surprisingly soft mattress in an unfamiliar apartment, you just  _can’t_. Be it from fear or general nervousness, you don’t know, but your body has been tense for at least the last twelve hours and it just won’t go away. And considering that you’re pretty sure that’s not a _normal_  part of pregnancy, those feelings can wander right back to hell and stay there!

Maybe it’s being alone in a strange room that throws you off, you think. It’d feel less weird, more natural, if the body that normally occupies this bed were beside you, no doubt curled around you if his actions during waking hours have been indicative of anything. You’d suggested the idea once everything else had quieted around you, but he’d turned you down, said it wouldn’t be right. As if it were possible for him to do anything more forward than had already happened, you wanted to hiss, but you kept that thought locked away. Considering the circumstances, a little body heat wouldn’t be  _that_  awkward, would it?

Ah, screw it, might as well see if you can get what you want later rather than never.

You’re thankful the apartment has a simple layout, everything on a hallway branching from the main room. It makes things easier as you slip out from the unnecessarily heavy pile of blankets, across the bedroom without crashing into any furniture and then out into the central space. Then towards that awful couch - it can’t possibly comfortable for someone to sleep on, you’re not sure what you’re going to say beyond that but…

"You okay?" He’s barely awake, but you kinda doubt he’d be that nice to his sister and that means he’s at least aware of who’s approaching him. "Is something…"

"Couldn’t sleep," you shrug, kneeling down next to him. "Thought maybe you could join me?"

"No." On second thought, fully awake and not in a great mood either. "Not gonna happen, Clarke. I am not taking advantage of you."

"What, you’ve never heard of the comforting powers of body heat?"

"Is that honestly what you’re after?"

"What do you want me to say?" you snap, shaking your head. Your hair is already a mess - thank goodness for conditioner and hairspray, you’re going to need both in bigger quantities than usual in the morning - and you probably look like death on legs, but now is not the time to worry about that. "I don’t feel comfortable and I think I’d feel  _more_  comfortable with someone else next to me. Is that an improvement?”

"Sorta." He shifts into a sitting position, legs sticking out from an old quilt and just enough of his torso that you can tell he doesn’t sleep with a shirt on (and you don’t mind knowing this detail but now might not be ideal timing for it). "I’m just… trying to give you space. Is that cool?"

"And if I don’t  _want_  space?”

"Then that’s your decision." In the halflight, you’re pretty sure his lips curve into a gentle smile. "I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want."

"Good," you say, reaching out and taking his hand. "This doesn’t have to mean anything. Just me trying to keep my head steady and you not killing your back on that deathtrap."

"Hey, I’m proud of this couch, Tae managed to get it at a yardsale for five bucks and…"

"There were probably  _reasons_  they gave it to her that cheap,” you laugh. “Like… I dunno, the fact that it’s a wood and wire frame with bad fabric draped over it? Seriously, you don’t have to do things to yourself because of some fucked-up sense of honor. I don’t want to get in your way.”

"Are you this much of a mouse with everyone?"

"I’m not a mouse."

"Guess not, but… do you have any wants? Anything worth living for?"

"I was supposed to start med school in the fall but I guess the whole being-knocked-up thing is going to put that on hold. In my spare time, I draw. I’m going to fight for this kid and try to be as good a mother for it as my own mother has been for me."

"Your mother as in the same woman who kicked you out because of a momentary lapse in judgment?"

"She overreacts. Like I said, I will be out of your hair in a week when she calms down and remembers that she genuinely does care about me regardless of bad life choices."

"You don’t have to be," Bellamy says softly, squeezing your hand. "It’s not a big deal if you want to hang around here longer than that."

"Are you sure you can deal with a bitchy pregnant chick for an indefinite length of time?"

"I’ve survived my sister, you can’t exactly be worse…"

"Yeah, but you love her."  _And I’m not anywhere near selfish enough to hope you will ever feel that way about me_ , you want to say, but you stop yourself before the words come out.

"That doesn’t make her an easy person to live with," he laughs. "C’mon, you need to rest, and if you are still that hellbent on me joining you…"

Neither of you says anything else until you’re back within the safety of the bedroom, door closed and blankets draped over your body once more. But this time, there is another person beside you, hand still innocently entwined with yours, and this time you feel safer somehow. “Good night,” you whisper, closing your eyes and letting yourself slowly drift away.

“‘Night Clarke,” he replies, squeezing your hand again, and then you are out to the darkness.

When next you wake, it’s to the sound of amused feminine laughing. You blink, knowing damn well what’s going on, and see Octavia leaning against the open door. “Oh my god,” the girl mutters, playfully shaking her head. “You two are gonna be so married by the time that kid is born.”

"I wasn’t feeling well," you growl, not sure where your sudden defensive instincts have come from. "I asked your brother if he’d stay with me, and…"

"Bed’s a hell of a lot better than that couch, Octavia. Which, speaking off, you mind asking if Dumb and Dumber want to help take that thing down to the curb? I’m finally drawing the line. Soon as we get rid of that atrocity, we’re going to Ikea."

"And by ‘we’, you mean you and your sister, yeah?" you ask, just for clarity.

"No, I mean all three of us, because last time I dragged her through that nightmare she nearly got kicked out. And do you have any idea how hard it is to get kicked out of an  _Ikea_ , Clarke?”

You shake your head, smiling for the first real time in weeks. “So you need me to babysit your crazy sister while you find furniture?”

"It’s family bonding time," Bellamy insists. "Long as you’re here, you get input. Cool?"

"I can do that."

"Ugh, you two are sickening," Octavia mutters in the background. "Just… make sure you’re both fully dressed in ten minutes, okay? The last thing I need today is a traumatized Jasper on my hands…"


End file.
